Chapter Seventy-Two—"Promises Broken"

"Hello, Baelfire," Captain Hook said, and Neal felt his jaw drop.

"What the hell is he doing here?" he twisted towards August to demand. Tension radiated out of every bone in his body; the last person Neal wanted to see was the pirate who had handed him over to Pan! Oh, they'd sort of made up after that, during one of the stupid games Pan liked to play in which Hook had helped young Baelfire escape (not the island, oh, no, Hook was too deeply in Pan's pocket for that, but he had helped Bae get away from the Lost Boys for a time). But that didn't mean that Neal wanted to see him.

"It's kind of a long story," August answered weakly, even as Hook spoke up again.

"I'm here like everyone else is. Because of the curse," the pirate explained with a shrug, stepping forward. "But I thought you might like to be greeted by an old friend."

"You're not my friend," Neal replied, taking a step back when Hook extended a hand.

"Believe me when I say that I'm the closest person to a friend you have in this town, mate," was the response. Then Hook jerked his head towards August. "This one here sold you out before his father was even in danger. I'd say you need all the help you can get."

Again, he twisted to look at the man who had convinced him to send Emma to jail. "August, what the hell does he mean 'sold me out'?"

"I'm sorry," August repeated, shamefaced. Neal's heart was pounding wildly by now.

"Sold me out to who?" he demanded.

"Baelfire," Hook cut in, actually looking a little concerned. "Listen to me. There isn't much time. The best thing you can do is work with us. That will keep you safe. Do you understand?"

"No, I don't understand. I don't have the faintest idea what's going on," he retorted, and then walked up to August to yank his car keys out of an unresisting hand. "But you know what? I'm not going to stick around to find out. I'm out of here."

Neal still wanted to help Emma, but whatever the hell August selling him out meant, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to do that anytime soon. Maybe I can leave, and then double back. Then again, if August lied about this, what else might he have lied about? Neal wondered worriedly. The next words came out quickly, stopping him cold when he meant to be walking back to his car.

"Is Emma even here?" he snapped at August.

"Of course she is!"

"Wait, how do you know Emma Swan?" Hook asked.

"He met her with me," August said quickly, and for a moment, Neal was taken aback by the lie. Who's he trying to protect now? "I mentioned that she was here. Nothing else."

Hook looked doubtful, but before any of the three men could speak, a fourth voice—this one female and slightly mocking—intervened.

"While this little reunion is absolutely adorable, I'm afraid I have to interrupt."

Turning, Neal noticed a woman standing six feet to his right where there definitely hadn't been anyone before. She wore an expensive gray pantsuit and a smug smile, and her brown eyes were fastened on him unnervingly. Something about the look on her face made him uncomfortable immediately; she looked eager and disgustingly self-satisfied. Whoever she was, she was looking at Neal like she'd just won the world's biggest lottery and he was the prize, and that got under his skin like nothing else.

"Lady, I don't know who you are, and frankly, I don't care. Unless you've got something important to say, I'm leaving," Neal snapped, absolutely fed up.

"I'm afraid you aren't going anywhere, dear," she said calmly.

He snorted. "Sure I'm not."

With that, Neal turned to leave—only to find that his feet would not move. Try though he did, both remained stuck to the ground like they'd taken root and started growing. He fought, pointless though it was, noticing the way August cringed and Hook sighed. August said there's magic here, Neal remembered. Son of a bitch. After several seconds of fruitless effort, he twisted his torso back to look at the woman.

"Let me guess: you're the Evil Queen August told me about."

She smiled a predator's smile. "I prefer to be known as Mayor Mills these days."

"Well, then, Mayor Mills, what the hell do you want with me?" Neal demanded.

"Leverage, of course," she replied, and everything went black.

"You have what you want," Jefferson said nervously, eyeing the white haired, dark eyed woman-thing next to Zelena. As if the Wicked Witch wasn't bad enough—and she'd been green in Wonderland, which was more than a little weird—the damned Jabberwocky was outright terrifying! Zelena had turned the creature on Jefferson for a few petrifying minutes, laughing as the Jabberwocky twisted him inside out.

Fortunately, they hadn't had much time in Wonderland; just enough to dump the corpse they'd brought along, fetch the Vorpal Blade, control the Jabberwocky, and hurry back into the hat. They'd returned twenty-two hours after leaving, and Jefferson was ready to drop from both physical and mental exhaustion. Not to mention the fact that he was more than ready to run away from the Jabberwocky. Left to his own devices, Jefferson would have high-tailed it away from Zelena and the Jabberwocky as soon as they got back to Storybrooke, but this insane witch had his daughter's heart, and Jefferson would do anything to keep Grace safe.

I might not have been the best person under the curse, but at least I was good to my little girl, the portal jumper thought. There were many things he remembered doing that wouldn't make any man proud, but he'd been a good father. And good fathers don't leave their daughter's heart in the hands of the Evil Queen. He had to get it back.

Zelena giggled. "So we do. Thanks for your service, doll."

"I want Grace's heart back," he replied stubbornly. She wasn't getting the hint, but Jefferson wasn't going to back down, even when the witch rolled her eyes dismissively.

"And I want a harem of beautiful men," she retorted airily. "There's a time for everything, and now isn't yours. Mother will decide when you get the brat's heart back."

"She said—"

"Do remind him of what he has to fear, Jabber," Zelena cut in, waving the Vorpal Blade.

Immediately, Jefferson backed off. Even if he had been willing to brave a repeat of that nightmare, doing so wouldn't protect Grace. And that was his primary duty.

"I get it," he said quickly. "There's no need for…that."

The Jabberwocky stopped, cocking her head at him. "Don't you want me inside your head, Jefferson? Your memories of your wife were so delicious—"

"Stop!" the word burst out of him desperately, and he backed up another half dozen steps, raising his hands in surrender. He could already feel the Jabberwocky in his mind, could feel her pulling his memories apart, digging into his fears and his worst nightmares. "You don't have to do that."

"Don't I?" Jabber asked softly, eyeing Zelena.

Sighing theatrically, the witch called her off. "You're ruining all my fun," she pouted. "But fine. We have better places to be, anyway."

The last was to the Jabberwocky, who immediately stepped away from Jefferson, though she actually winked at him before walking away at Zelena's side. They left him standing alone on the edge of the woods, probably thinking that he would have a long walk back to town and, knowing Zelena, enjoying the thought of making someone else suffer. But the short-sighted witch had forgotten one important thing:

She left the hat behind.

"Did you figure out what it was?" Belle asked as Rumplestiltskin came up the stairs from the cellar. The question made her husband stop, blinking, and then come back to himself with a shake of his head.

"I believe so, yes," he replied slowly.

They'd been eating breakfast when Gabi had noticed the magic in the air moments before her father did, and Belle had known that her husband was barely able to contain his curiosity long enough to finish his eggs before heading downstairs. She hadn't argued, though; something powerful enough to be noticed by their daughter was either good news or extremely dangerous. For a few moments, Belle had even dared to hope that the curse had been broken, but she knew Rumplestiltskin would have known that without doing any work.

"Are you going to make me guess?" she inquired lightly, stepping forward to elbow him in the side.

That finally made Rumplestiltskin smile. "Sorry," he said. "I think—no, I know—that someone has opened a portal. Probably using Jefferson's hat. I believe Cora kept it."

"A portal to where?" That couldn't be good.

"I'm not sure, but if you're thinking what I think you are, I do believe we need to find out."

Belle nodded. "What can I do?"

Getting into her mother's mausoleum was surprisingly easy. Regina waited until the morning of the 5th of March, since it was a Monday and she knew her mother always slept in on Mondays before getting a late start at work. Even when she isn't screwing Rumple, Regina thought, making her way down the stairs. I really should ask him what the hell is going on there. He's gone out with her twice since he told me that he wants to kill her. What in the world is he thinking? That, however, was an issue for another time. Today, she had at least one heart to find, hopefully more. But there was no way Regina was going to leave without David's heart. She'd come armed with his favorite shirt, and had worked on a very narrowly focused locator spell. Of course, Regina didn't dare put the potion on the shirt ahead of time; if she had, it might have tried to lead her to David, instead of just to his heart.

Now, though, Regina could pour the pale blue potion over the shirt, so she did. It was an ugly checkered shirt that she had always hated, anyway, and one she was happy to sacrifice for such a good cause. She emptied the bottle just as she reached the door at the bottom of the stairs, pausing there and squaring her shoulders. The potion only needed moments to take effect, and the shirt floated out of her hands almost immediately.

"There you go," Regina said, smiling. "Now take me to David's heart, and let's hope the rest are labeled."

Her mother was obsessively organized, but the one thing Regina had never seen her do was label the boxes holding the many hearts she'd taken. Or at least she hadn't back home. Maybe she did here, because life and everything else was so much more complicated. Regina was far from an expert on the Dark Curse, but she knew enough to know that what her mother had done was incredibly detailed and complex. She'd seen Cora writing a list or two of things she wanted to do to people, so perhaps there was some sort of key that would indicate—

"Oh, look what the cat dragged in," a voice cooed, and Regina whirled to face her half-sister. Meanwhile, the shirt bumped ineffectively against the door to the vault of hearts, bouncing back and forth as if it was confused.

"Zelena," Regina growled. Of course Zelena could be down here. Blood magic kept everyone else out, but it wouldn't stop either of them.

"Mother thought you might come down here, so I was watching," the redhead replied, grinning victoriously. "She's busy preparing something special, but she trusts me."

"Yeah, that only makes me feel sorry for you," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "You do know that she doesn't have a heart, right? She can't really care about anyone. She just uses people."

"That's what you think, but you're wrong! You've been disloyal, so of course Mother doesn't care about you! You're just not worthy," Zelena sneered.

Wow. Blinking, Regina could only stare at the other woman for a long moment. Regina knew how twisted their mother was, but this little conversation told her exactly how messed up Zelena was. Zelena was desperate for affection and to belong, and a large part of Regina knew exactly how she felt. If I hadn't grown up with Snow as my sister…if I hadn't had someone who loved me no matter what, this very well could have been me.

"Look, I'm just here to get David's heart. I don't want to fight with you," she said as reasonably as she could.

"But I want to fight you!" Zelena grinned. "And wicked always wins."

Magic crashed into Regina before she could reply, smashing her sideways into the heavy wooden door. The impact made her teeth rattle, and dazed her for a moment, darkness ripping through her body and making her feel like she was on fire. Zelena was powerful, and whatever problems their mother had been having with magic, it was obvious that Zelena didn't share them. The spell hit hard, and a second one followed right on its heels, slamming her into the floor and leaving her gasping. Throwing her hands up desperately, she got a shield in between herself and the third spell.

Beating back a fourth attack, Regina scrambled to her feet, calling fire to her right hand and preparing to launch it at Zelena. But the fireball sputtered out and died before she could throw it, and Regina felt her eyes go wide. A fifth wave of magic slammed into her, and she barely managed to stop that one, reaching into her own anger and trying desperately for power that could match the forces Zelena was throwing at her. Unfortunately, as powerful as Regina was, her strength was in her heart, in her love, and Rumplestiltskin had taught her to capitalize on those strengths. So her fury could not carry her, could not withstand the tornado of power tearing at her.

Her defenses caught one blow, but another two got through. Regina kept reacting, barely able to keep up with the speed at which Zelena threw spells her way. She just needed a moment to think, a moment to center herself and find something that would work, but there just wasn't time. Regina knew she was powerful, and she'd never met an opponent other than her mother that she couldn't best, but Zelena was tearing her to shreds. For a moment, it was like she was back in the Enchanted Forest, desperately battling with her mother and trying to save Daniel—

And failing, yet again. She hadn't been able to save Daniel, and now she wouldn't be able to get David's heart. Her mother would win, again, because Regina wasn't good enough. She'd tried so hard, and yet she always seemed to fail.

With no options left, Regina teleported out of the mausoleum.

The Day of the Curse

Regina's magic took her straight to her mother's castle almost as soon as she'd gotten the message. Snow was very nearly ready to give birth, and Regina hated leaving her, but her sister had told her to go to Daniel.

"You'll never forgive yourself if you aren't there for him," Snow had said, sitting up in bed and gripping Regina's hands like she hadn't been having contractions all morning. "Emma has a lifetime for you to be there. She won't begrudge Daniel this last day."

Long practice had told Regina that she should not believe her mother's letter, and yet Cora did have her oddly sentimental moments. There were days when Regina truly believed that Cora wanted to be a good mother for her, and there were others when she absolutely knew that Cora only wanted her to suffer for not being the perfect daughter she had always wanted. Yet what if today was not one of those days? What if Daniel—whom her mother had not killed when Regina left for good, contrary to what they had both expected—really was sick and dying? Snow had been right; she would never forgive herself if she did not go to him now.

So, here she was, rushing into her mother's castle in exile and praying that she had not made the biggest mistake of her life. Cora met her into the hallway, smiling.

"Regina! You made it, dear."

"Is Daniel all right?" she asked quickly, her heart pounding in her chest.

"He's fine," Cora replied. "But no hello for your mother? I've missed you so."

"And I'll be happy to have whatever reunion that you want after I see Daniel," Regina said, desperation making the words come fast. "Please, Mamma."

"Of course." A hand came out to squeeze her upper arm, and for once, Regina did not feel like her mother was trying to pressure her. "Right this way."

"He's not still in the dungeons, is he?" she whispered.

"No, darling. I wouldn't do that to either of you."

The cloud of purple smoke invaded his home with no warning, leaving Rumplestiltskin little time to react. But he was the Dark One, and paranoid by nature if not because of his curse, so his magic roared to his hands before the cloud had even finished materializing. Of course, the person teleporting in turned out to be Regina, battered and worn and looking very defeated. Rumplestiltskin had been standing in the front hall when she appeared, on his way to the shop after discussing options with Belle, but he stopped cold as Regina caught herself, swaying precariously.

"The custom in polite society is to knock, dearie," he said mildly, refusing to show how taken aback he was by her sudden presence. Regina, however, looked like she'd taken one hell of a magical beating, and only snorted in response to his droll comment.

"I'm sorry, I was busy trying to get away from my sister," Regina snarled. "Who you taught. Thanks for that, by the way."

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "She's not more powerful you are, you know."

He spoke the words offhandedly, acting, as always, like he didn't give a damn, but he had a feeling Regina saw right though that pretense. She knew him too well, after all. Not as well as Belle did, but Regina knew him better than almost anyone else. Now, however, she was clearly too angry to appreciate the finer points of their relationship, and rolled her eyes, snapping:

"Sure she is. She just kicked my ass."

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" Rumplestiltskin asked instead of bothering with trying to tell Regina that she was perfectly capable of beating Zelena if she focused on her own strengths instead of getting impatient and trying to overpower her sister. He didn't have to have seen their fight to know how it must have happened. What really mattered was why they had fought, not how Regina felt about it. We'll have plenty of time to deal with that later.

Sighing, Regina seemed to calm down a little. "Mother is collecting hearts again."

"This is not a surprise."

"Well, she has David's. Or Charming's. Whatever you want to call him," his former student retorted. "I went to try to get it back, but Zelena was lurking in Mother's vault."

"And she stopped you." He spoke emotionlessly; while it would have been useful if Regina had been able to get her brother-in-law's heart back, Charming being heartless would not change Rumplestiltskin's planned course of action for when the curse broke. If Cora was going to crush his heart and kill him, she probably would have done it already, he knew. Unless, of course, she plans on waiting until Snow is awake to hurt her still more.

"Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be here," Regina said, glaring at him.

"Don't blame me, dear. I didn't know you were going to act so foolishly, so I certainly couldn't warn her. Assuming I was in any way interested in doing so, which I am not."

"I know. You'd rather play both sides against the middle and avoid actually making a commitment," she grumbled.

"Don't act so surprised. You have met me before," Rumplestiltskin replied, amused.

"Yeah, your usual antics aren't going to cut it anymore. So, if you're going to choose a side, now's the time. Mother's preparing for the curse breaking, and she's going to do whatever it takes to hurt people. You've said you and I are on the same side. Are we?"

"Are you asking for a commitment?" he asked curiously.

"Will you give one?" she demanded.

"I've already given as much of a commitment as I am prepared to," Rumplestiltskin replied honestly. "I don't make blanket promises, and I am quite certain that you don't expect me to suddenly swear an oath of loyalty to your dear sister."

Regina snorted. "I'm not sure I'd believe you if you did, imp."

"Then why are you here?" he asked, genuinely curious now.

"I don't know." She looked away, her voice dropping from irritated to quiet. "I just wasn't sure where else to go. Or what else to do."

Oh, dear. It had been a long, long time since Regina had turned to him for comfort or advice; she had begun turning to Snow more and more in their last years in the Enchanted Forest, and Rumplestiltskin hadn't begrudged her that. Their relationship was tricky, close but difficult to define, and although he cared for Regina more than he would admit, sometimes he didn't know how to deal with her. Under other circumstances, Regina would have been his daughter, and Rumplestiltskin never would forget that, no matter how sour his feelings for Cora had turned. But she wasn't, and she'd had a father who had loved her very much, so sometimes Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure where on the line between mentor and close friend they fell.

"Don't start doubting yourself now," he said softly, feeling an odd twitch in the vicinity of his heart when he looked at the defeated expression on her face. "Zelena is a powerful sorceress, yes, but you have many things she doesn't."

"Like what?" Regina shot him a doubtful look.

"A support network, for one. There are many people who care about you. Don't forget them."

"That won't help me if she kicks my ass again," she replied.

"Oh, stop it," Rumplestiltskin snorted. "You're playing her game. She hammered you with dark magic and anger and you tried to fight back with that, didn't you?"

Her voice turned very small. "Yes."

"You know better than that. Fight her your way, and you'll beat her. You're just as powerful as she is—believe me, I know. I taught you both."

"But…"

"No buts," he said gently. "You've always been your own worst enemy. Use darkness and your fury when you need it, but Zelena is always going to be more angry than you. Fight her with your heart and your soul, not your fears."

Blinking, Regina stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Since when are you so helpful?" she asked thickly.

"Well, we did just say that we're allies, didn't we?" Rumplestiltskin responded as lightly as he could, shying away from saying anything more meaningful. He never was sure how that would go over, and having been rejected too many times in his life, he always shied away from saying how he really felt.

"Yeah," she replied, a tiny smile creasing her face. "Yeah, we did."

Thump. Shuffle. Thunk. The sounds came as if from a great distance. He felt like his head was encased in cotton. At first, Neal thought he was waking up from a particularly bad hangover; he'd had a few real doozies in his time, and this really felt like one of them. He was lying on the cold floor somewhere, curled up on his side and unable to remember what he'd done the night before. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time he'd woken up in such a state, though he'd not done something so stupid in a long time. Still, at first he really did think that this was only a hangover, albeit a terrible one. Then he opened his eyes.

He was in a goddamned cage.

"How the hell did I get here?" Neal muttered, pulling himself into a sitting positon. Searching his memories, he struggled to recall how he got there—and then he remembered the crazy bitch of a woman, August's so-called Evil Queen, with her magic and her cold smile. She'd hit him with some sort of spell or another, and everything had gone black.

"You don't know?" a voice replied from his left, and Neal twisted to see that his cage was between two others, but the one to the left was occupied by a grizzled old man.

Blinking, Neal could do nothing but stare for a moment. The old man was sitting on the floor, too; there seemed to be no furniture of any sort in any of the cages, but they were situated in a pretty big room. Was it a cellar? The far side of the room was dark, but Neal thought he could make out a table and chairs, and a few cabinets. There was some sort of frame over by the far wall, but aside from seeing that it was vaguely rectangular, Neal couldn't make out much because of the shadows.

"You all right there, son?" the old man spoke again, and Neal finally managed to focus on him.

"Yeah, I think so," he said slowly. "Where the hell am I?"

"As near as I can guess, we're in the mayor's summer house," his companion answered tiredly. "Though I wasn't sure she even knew about this place until she and O'Malley brought you in."

"The mayor," Neal repeated flatly, remembering meeting her at the town line. But who the hell was the woman?

August had called her the Evil Queen, and had told him about a curse. A curse that Emma was apparently destined to break, in a place where her family—and every other person in the Enchanted Forest—had been stuck. Neal knew enough to know that Storybrooke was where everyone was, but he didn't know these people. He was so far out of his own time; at best guess, a couple of hundred years had passed since he'd left the Enchanted Forest. He knew nothing about what had been going on there since he'd left via magic bean, because it wasn't like Pan cared what happened in other realms, and even if he had, the Shadow wasn't exactly a news service. It was the only thing that traveled out of Neverland, and it never brought news back. So, he knew precisely nothing more than August had told him, which hadn't been much at all.

I should have asked a lot more questions before I came barging into town, he realized. Neal had been so focused on helping Emma, on making everything up to her, that he hadn't questioned anything since August told him Emma was in danger. That was really stupid of me, Neal decided. And now I'm stuck in a cage because I jumped in without looking to see how deep the water is.

Worse yet, it was a cage without a freaking lock. Or a damn door, even. Magic. Of course it's magic. Damn it all. He'd run to this world to get away from magic forever, and now he was right in the thick of things again.

"Are you new to Storybrooke?" the old man interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah, you can say that," he snorted. "I just arrived today. Name's Neal."

"Marco," his companion responded. "Do you know why you're down here? What anyone might want with you? I woke up here, too, just this morning."

That question made Neal think. August had lied about how he knew Emma which meant that this Evil Queen couldn't know that he'd once been in love with her and had come to help her. So, that meant…well, hell. He had no idea what that meant. She'd said she wanted leverage, though. Leverage against who?

"No," he answered, shifting to try to find a more comfortable position on the hard floor. "I have no idea."

What had he done?

Oh, on the surface it was simple and clear. He was a villain, on the side of the other villains, and had helped Cora capture her enemy's son. And Killian would never, ever feel so much as a flicker of pity for Rumplestiltskin…but Bae was Milah's son, too. He'd never really forgiven himself for handing the boy over to Pan—Baelfire might have said he'd preferred that to staying on the Jolly Roger, but the boy had no idea what he was getting into. Killian had known and he'd handed him over, anyway. He'd sent Milah's son, the one he had promised with her to go and get, away into the most hellish place Killian could even imagine. I should have insisted we go back for him, he thought morosely. Then none of this could have happened to him.

Still, there was hope. Bae had hated his father the last time they'd spoken, and he likely still did. They certainly had that much in common, and perhaps Killian could convince Bae to help them willingly. After all, he'd want revenge against the father who had abandoned him, wouldn't he? Cora had locked him away, but Killian was certain that he could convince her to let him try to bring Baelfire around. After all, whatever she wanted with him, it would certainly be simpler if Bae decided to cooperate.

And then, even if I can't kill the crocodile, I can watch his son turn against him with us, and won't that be sweet? Killian thought with a smile. Rumplestiltskin would hate that more than anything, and perhaps that could be a down payment for his revenge for his beloved Milah's death.

Regina left Gold's house in a slightly better mood than she'd arrived in, armed with reassurances that perhaps her sister wasn't as powerful as Regina had feared she was. Rumple would know, after all, just like he'd said. The bastard had taught them both, and Regina knew he wasn't the type to bother telling a reassuring lie. Yet he had reassured her. Next time she faced her sister, she would do better. Regina was sure of that.

She was so busy planning what she would do, how she would beat Zelena for good—or maybe convince Zelena that their mother was insane and clinging to Cora really was foolish—to notice when magic hit her right in the back, making Regina stumble forward. Staggering, she spun to face her attacker, finding a mocking grin and a riot of red hair facing framing the face before her. Zelena's eyes were full of fire, and Regina could feel the magic filling the air as her sister gathered power to herself.

"Are you so weak that you have to go running to Rumple for protection?" Zelena taunted her, and Regina's own temper rose to meet one so very like her own.

"I'm not weak," she snarled. You've always been your own worst enemy, Rumplestiltskin had said, and the words echoed in her ears even as Regina reached for anger and dark magic. Abruptly, she shifted her focus, remembering her love for her sister, for Henry, for everyone she wanted to protect and everyone she loved. "Having friends doesn't make you weak."

"Needing anyone makes you weak, Regina," her sister retorted, and Regina actually felt sorry for her for a moment.

"You really don't have a lot of experience with friendships, do you?" she asked, realizing that she really didn't need darkness and rage to defeat Zelena. No, she needed to remember what made her different from this bitter and envious woman their mother had abandoned.

"I don't need friends," Zelena sneered.

Could this have been me? Regina wondered, feeling a pang of sadness. If I had become what Mother wanted me to, isolated and alone? Would I be busy telling myself that I needed nothing and no one? Would I never know differently?

"Look, it doesn't have to be like this—" Regina started to say, stepping forward and reaching a hand towards her sister—

Only to have the sharp tip of a needle prick her finger, and the world spiral into darkness.

A/N: Next up: Chapter Seventy-Three—"A Curse to End All Curses," where Jefferson goes to Rumplestiltskin for help, Henry tries to figure out where Regina has gone, and Cora puts her final plan to stop Emma—and administer a nightmare curse—in motion. Back in the past, Cora casts the curse.

In the meantime, tell me who you think the Nightmare Curse is for! Also, who do you think the Jabberwocky's first target will be?

One last note—I've started a new story, picking up where season 4 left off, titled "Ruins of Camelot." Its first chapter was just posted today.